


Big Teeth Small Kiss

by lotuskasumi



Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Breathplay, Domestic, F/M, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Neck Kissing, Tie Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotuskasumi/pseuds/lotuskasumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>”I’m going to try something,” Lightning said, not looking at him, almost determined not to in his mind. She pulled angrily at the small elastic band holding her hair up and combed her fingers through the strands, letting them fall out in a thick wave down her back. “And I want you to keep still ‘til I say you can move again. Okay?” -- [Neckties, erogenous zones, long days. It's the simple things that kill and please by degrees. Post-Lightning Returns.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Teeth Small Kiss

Hope shut the door behind him with a quick snap and walked into the living room, his heart as heavy as the tread that echoed down into the floorboards of the house he shared with Lightning. The energy he had so sorely needed to get through the day, and dutifully replenished with consistent cups of coffee, had faded long before the time he returned home that evening. This constant draining process was a typical procedure, one Hope had long since grown accustomed to, and it made coming home all the more enjoyable. Just being there was the true pleasure, along with who was usually there to greet him.

It was the simple things about living with Lightning that provided Hope with the most comfort, these hard to describe joys that were so skilled at taking away the damage done by larger grievances. A familiar smell (her perfume, the shampoo she used, or the lotion she would sometimes let him smooth over her skin). A simple gesture (her calloused, strong hand reaching out to snatch his, the way she pushed her shoulders back as she laughed, or the long lazy cat stretch that helped shake off the lingering clutches of sleep). Or even just the warmth of her presence (in the same room, down the hall, in his arms, skin to skin and sometimes closer, deeper) — Hope came home to them all, and he was more grateful for it than he knew he was allowed to say. Lightning would squirm and turn scarlet if he ever dared to speak so open and freely about what she did to him.  _Why do we have to say it?_  she’d grumble. _Isn’t it obvious by now?_

Hope could hear the radio playing in the kitchen, mixed in with the shuffle of her feet on the tiles and the clatter as she searched through the drawers and returned utensils to their proper place.  _She actually volunteered to cook today — she must be feeling brave._ He would have to match that courage if the dish was anything but steak. Lightning might have her own set of skills, but when it came to the culinary arts she was still very much a novice. Hope would support her regardless.

"I’m home," he called out to the small square of light bleeding out from the kitchen. A shadow moved across it, the familiar figure making him smile before she could even appear.

Lightning poked her head out from the edge of the room, her hair pulled back in a messy knot with only a few pale wisps hanging down. A rare sight indeed and one that Hope cherished, considering the usual rose-blonde curtain that framed her face. Her expression was as Hope expected it to be: patient and calm, like the icy surface of a frozen pond; it was a look Hope had once confused for anger all those lifetimes ago, and like all things about her, Hope had learned to cherish it now.

Lightning glanced Hope up and down and smiled in return, a quick stretch of her lips that drew his eyes to her mouth. “Welcome back,” she said, her voice warm and low.

Hope tensed upon hearing her voice, unsure if she meant to sound as thrilling as she did. It was hard to tell sometimes, though Hope usually erred on the side of caution and resounding negatives. Lightning didn’t seem to know the power she had over him with simple looks or shifts of her voice. Hope looked her over, from the smirk on her lips to the way her shirt had pulled up to reveal a flash of skin at her hip and began to undo his tie. He pulled gently at the thin strip of fabric, enjoying the way it dragged across his skin through his shirt. Keeping his eyes fixed on Lightning, Hope absentmindedly stroked the side of his neck and tried to ease the tension there, looking intently at the curve of her lips, drinking in the warmth of that smile that was as rare as her kisses before it could fade away.

One of her eyebrows shifted up as Lightning considered him. “Long day?” she asked, gesturing Hope to come closer as she returned to her toils in the kitchen.

Hope was only too happy to follow her command. “Is it that obvious?” he asked, following behind her, appreciating her attention as he always did. Lightning’s regard no matter what the situation was always a comfort; just knowing she took the time to pay attention to him, that she cared enough to listen and look closely at whatever was needling him was solace enough. It was the simple things that held them together.

Lightning snorted as she bent over a pot on the stove and stirred the contents inside, side-eyeing Hope with a quick, dagger-sharp stare. There was no heat behind it, so Hope didn’t take it to heart. ”It’s written all over your face,” she said. He thought he could hear her add in an undertone, “Among other things,” but he wasn’t sure that was meant for his ears. Hope let it slide.

"It gets harder to hide once I’m home," he said. "It just means I’m comfortable around you, Light."

"Guess so."

"It’s not a bad thing," he pointed out, wondering why he felt the need to defend himself.

"I didn’t say it was." She twisted the knob on the stove to OFF and stepped back, wiping her palms on a hand towel left out on the counter. She was all tension and frayed nerves; Hope could almost sense the friction in the air between them, like oil mixing with the water of his exhaustion. He’d felt this from her before, long, long ago, when they were still fighting on Cocoon. It didn’t often happen to her now with all the years and distance between them and the lives they’d once lived, but Hope had never forgotten what it felt like to see her this way. She was nervous.

"Light?" Hope began gently, stopping himself from reaching out to hold her hand or give her shoulder a comforting squeeze. She might throw him off, push him back, and that, he knew, would hurt like hell even if she didn’t intend it to. It was the simple things about her that could kill. "You all right?"

"I’m going to try something," Lightning said, not looking at him, almost  _determined_ not to in his mind. She pulled angrily at the small elastic band holding her hair up and combed her fingers through the strands, letting them fall out in a thick wave down her back. “And I want you to keep still ‘til I say you can move again. Okay?”

"… Okay?" Hope was only too happy to be on the receiving end of most of Lightning’s domestic experiments, an excitement that he refused to hide and consequently made Lightning all the more embarrassed to behold. His enthusiasm was dampened at the moment, especially with her so on edge. It would be crass and clueless for him not to be concerned. Hope knew that intimacy of all kinds always made Lightning cringe even now, after all this time and everything that they’d endured together, for each other.  _It’s hard to be around you when you’ve got that look on your face_ , she’d grumbled to him once in the beginning, blushing bright and turning even redder as the seconds passed. 

 _What look?_ he’d asked. 

 _Like you’ve never seen my face before and you’re trying to memorize every little detail — like you’re… seeing_ into  _me. It’s weird. Stop it._

How Hope had laughed, unable to hide his smile.  _There’s a name for that kind of look, you know._ But Lightning had stopped him with a playful shove and a glare. 

_Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say that word._

So he hadn’t, just as she commanded. Hope thought he wouldn’t ever have to say it — the truth was so apparent to them both.  _Like an open book._

Lightning turned to face him, angling her head back to accommodate for the small discrepancies in their height. She moved closer to him, her tongue dashing out to wet her lips, her hands rising slowly to frame his face. It was growing more difficult for Hope to believe she really had no idea what kind of power she held over him.

Hope stayed very still, as Lightning had commanded him. She didn’t say he couldn’t make a noise, though — which he did, gladly, moaning when he felt her fingers brushing the side of his throat. As she pulled on and released his necktie in agonizingly careful little tugs, Lightning chewed on the corner of her mouth and kept her eyes focused on the motions of her hand and the flush steadily creeping up Hope’s neck with every touch applied.

"Does this actually feel good?" she asked, her voice muted, her expression a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment, taking pride at her ability to make him respond this way. "You can say it. Tell me, Hope."

Before he could respond, perhaps because she didn’t really want to hear what Hope would say since it might take her own courage away, Lightning pushed herself up on her toes and brushed her lips over his exposed throat. “I saw how you were looking at me just now, when you walked in. You’ve done it before, too. And you always touch your neck after you do it. Why is that, I wonder?” Lightning nipped lightly at his throat, her teeth pinching Hope’s skin and then replacing the pain with a tender kiss. Hope’s knees buckled.

"What about this?" The words spread over his skin as if she were kissing him all across his throat, as if her lips and tongue were trailing over the exact spot where his pulse flared the hardest. "You like that too, Hope?"

He moaned. He couldn’t help it. Hope closed his eyes as she gave one final tug to his tie before it slipped off his neck, the knot undone. He felt it slide down over his leg as Lightning let it drop to the floor, thinking for a brief moment that he ought to tease her for wanting to make a mess. But then Lightning was moving her fingers over the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with great care as she said, “Dammit just touch me, Hope. I want you to touch me.”

"Now?" he grunted, pulling her in close and feeling her breasts press against him in a soft crush. "Are you sure?"

Lightning chuckled and gave Hope a fleetingly cruel kiss on the lips.  She had to know, then. She had to. “Pretty sure. Why do you think I turned off the stove?”

Hope could have laughed. It was the simple things about her that killed and pleased him in equal turns.


End file.
